Johnson: She bakes a difference, one cake at at time

We will get to the Captain America cake in a minute, but first I feel the need to testify a little about Bea Macaya, a 25-year-old woman, who goes by the name Bay.

Bay and people like her give me hope. No, they give me a lot of hope. They are young people who, like a table lamp being flicked on, suddenly and for whatever reason wake up one morning and realize that this little thing we are all going through called human life isn't all just about THEM.

Take a look at this little missive she wrote. I plan to quote from it frequently. It begins this way:

“I always ask God why He never showered me with a lot of money so I can help everyone in need. I always tell myself, if I only had a lot of extra money, I'd love to make a difference in someone's life. In a world where you can't deny money really does make a difference, I thought to myself, I probably won't ever get to help in this lifetime.”

A lot of people would say God never delivered.

The Aliso Viejo woman, like so many folks, works two full-time jobs, one in a dentist's office and the other as a data entry clerk at a computer firm.

“I still have my share of struggles,” she said. “I work hard to make ends meet. I have rent, utilities, bills to pay. I am struggling to save enough to further my education. Life has handed me some pretty tough cards.”

A couple of months ago, too, people in her life began dying from or being diagnosed with cancer, including a neighbor friend who left behind two children, ages 13 and 8.

And then, on June 30, a friend called. There was this man she knew, she told Bay. His name was Anton. He was 25, and was suffering badly from cancer.

“I had never met him,” she said.

July 1 was Anton's birthday, one he would celebrate in the critical care unit of Hoag Hospital Irvine. His family and friends would throw him a birthday party there, she was told. He might not have another, her friend told her.

She knew Bay baked cakes. Actually, a lot of people do. But, trust me, they are not just cakes. They are works of art that take six to eight hours and, in many cases, nearly $100 to create.

She started Bayked Treasures three years ago, mostly making cupcakes for friends. Soon, people began asking if she made birthday cakes. Her every evening and weekend for the past two years have been spent in her kitchen creating elaborate birthday, wedding and anniversary cakes.

“I'm self-taught,” Bay told me as I flipped, jaw in my lap, through photographs of her recent creations. “When you do something you love, it's not really work.”

Anton, her friend told her, simply adores Captain America. Could she possibly put together a Captain America cake, and drop it off at Hoag the next day?

“I normally wouldn't do a cake that quick because I work full time, but I didn't have the heart to say no.”

She stayed up all that night creating the Captain America cake. And this is the part I like the most:

“The family said they would pay anything if I could just do that for them, but I didn't have the heart to charge them anything,” she said.

That evening, her friend called her back. She had made Anton's day, she was told. Though he could not eat the cake, his spirits were so high the entire day. He was just smiling.

“I got the news the next day that Anton passed away just hours after his birthday,” Bay told me. “That got to me. The feeling I got from that cake – I mean, I didn't think a simple cake could be so big in someone's life.

“That was my final push. I can do this, I told myself.”

She decided to start BAYked It Forward. Every month she would give a custom cake to one person in Orange County who is battling cancer and celebrating a birthday during that month.

“Since I am not rich enough to give money to those in need, this is my way of paying it forward, of helping them,” she said.

“I was always brought up to put people before myself, taught to look out for others. My problems – and maybe Anton focused it – are not even half of what the rest of the world is going through.”

After donating her August cake, she posted a flier about BAYked It Forward on Facebook and Instagram. Soon she was flooded with email from bakers all across the country who wanted to join her or at least do the same thing.

Now, instead of limiting the program just to Orange County, bakers across the Southland will donate cakes to those with cancer. The response, Bay said, has overwhelmed her.

It does not take a pile of money to help others, she said.

“I realized that God has, indeed, blessed me in so many other ways. I am surrounded by so many people who love and support me. I am blessed with an amazing family, good health, such amazing best friends, stable jobs and a business that now allows me to give back.”